Time Tells
by robinthethird
Summary: Bruce smiled and gently put down his tea cup on the table. "No, Timothy, I don't think you will be going to the ball after all…"


"Timothy!"

The shout rang across the halls of the house, right up through the floors, and straight to the attic where Timothy had been trying to catch another few minutes of rest before he had to get up. But of course his step family had to wake up early and demand their breakfast before Tim had even gotten a chance to start it. They usually stay in bed past breakfast on the weekend. He wondered what changed today as he huried to get dressed in a plain shirt, slacks, and shoes; the only clothes he was allowed to wear anymore.

"Tim_othyyy_!"

Tim pounded his way down the spiral staircase from the attic and down to the second floor where his step brothers were shouting from their connectking bedrooms. "All right, I'm here! What do you need?"

Richard rushed over to Tim and pulled him into his bedroom. "You need to shine my shoes, press my suit, the light blue one not the dark one, start my bath-

Jason cut his brother off and grabbed Tim's arm to take him to his room instead through the connecting door. "No, Timothy, you need to wash my tie, and find my shoes, they're lost and-"

"Boys!" Bruce Wayne's voice carried over both his sons, speaking over them and commanding silence all in the same word. Then he turned to his step son. "Don't worry about the clothing. Prepare a luncheon and make it quick. We have a ball to prepare for. Now, go."

Richard clapped his hands together, bouncing a little on his toes in his enthusiam. "I still can't believe we got an invitation- I was starting to think that the King had forgotten about us!"

Tim paused in the doorway. So that was what all the fuss was about. An invite to the King's ball. "Our family got an invitation? Does that mean I can go to?"

"You?!" Jason sneered at his stepbrother and shoved him out of the door. "Of course you can't go. Why would anyone want to see you, especially the King...?"

"Now, now, Jason. Timothy can go if he wants to-"

"What?!" Richard and Jason chorused their shock together. "But, father, he can't go!"

Tim edged back into the doorway and looked at Bruce's shoes. "I can really go?"

Bruce moved to his stepson and patted his head gently. "You can go to the ball if you finish the luncheon, and your chores."

Jason growled and clenched his hands into fists. "What about us? I still can't find my shoes!"

"Timothy you will make the luncheon, shine Richard's shoes, find Jason's shoes, press their suits and ties, scrub the entryway and make it shine, sweep the courtyard, pick the weeds, wash the dishes, do the laundry, dust everything in every room, wash the dishes, and the windows. Then make sure you're dressed properly by eight o'clock sharp." Bruce gently usered Tim out of Jason's bedroom and shut the door. He needed to help his sons prepare for the ball. It would seem as though they had a lot more work to do and so little time to do it.

Tim's face burned with embarrassment. The luncheon was fine, the chores were fine- but added things to the list that would take all of his time? It would seem as though his stepfather was a crueler man than he had thought. There was no way he could do all that _and_ be ready to leave by eight o'clock that night. But he had to try. He had every right to go to that ball as his stepfamily did.

"Father. You can't let him go. The Drakes were infamous for catching the King's eye." Richard pouted and gave Bruce his best big, blue, sad eyes. It hadn't failed him as a child to get his own way.

Bruce straightened his tie and sat down in a plush chair. "I said he can go i_f_...he finishes. See?"

Richard snickered and Jason laughed as they recalled all the tasks their father set to Timothy. All those things that would take such a long time to finish. There was no way he could be done in time to leave. Richard went back to rumaging in his closet for his favorite tie. The black one with the blue stripe that matched his eyes. "Oh, hey, Jason, are these your shoes? Looks like Ace used them for toys... Yeuch." Richard tossed the ripped up shoes in Jason's direction.

"That's just fucking fantastic! I hate that stupid dog!" Jason examined his shoes then threw them at the closed door. "Now I need new shoes and I don't have time for this."

Bruce shook his head as he stood and opened the door then called for Timothy again. The poor boy had just barely gotten down to the kitch and he had to go all the way back up. He was used to this. Always something last minute wasn't there? When he got back up to the bedroom, he was sent to the city with just enough money to purchase a new pair of shoes for Jason, and instructions to come right back. No excuses.

Tim was just happy that they were within walking distance. He could get some fresh air and some time to himself to just relax. Walking always helped him to relax, clear his head, think better thoughts. But he didn't have time to dally along today if he wanted to get everything finished in time. Tim went straight to the cobbler, the only man the Wayne's trusted to make their shoes, and make them correctly. The best. They could only have the best for they were the best.

Tim scoffed as he opened the shop door and went inside. As soon as he looked up he stopped dead and stared at the only other patron in the shop making a purchase of new slippers. It couldn't possibly... The man turned toward him and he didn't need a crown on top of his head for anyone to know who he was. Tim stammered an apology and gave a hasty bow, his face red as an apple. "B-beg your pardon, your majesty."

King Ra's al Ghul turned at the sound of a chirp like a bird. It was a very delicate sound and it make him smile. Certainly he would like to hear more of it. "What is your name, little bird?"

Bird? Tim straightened up halfway from his bow with a brow furrowed in confusion. "Timothy Drake, your majesty."

"Drake? That's a good family name and I'm sorry for your loses." Ra's nodded his head at Timothy and then looked the boy over, noting his plain clothing. Shouldn't a child of great wealth have better clothing? He has most definitely had his wonderful mother's looks. She brought the Lynn beauty to the Drake family.

Tim bowed again to acknowledge the King's sympathy. He had never expected he would get to meet the King let alone receive his sympathies for his parent's unfortunate deaths. First his father to poison, then his mother shortly after she married Wayne, and Tim always believd their deaths to be his stepfathers doing. But he never had any proof. "Thank you, your majesty. That is most kind."

"Will you be attending the ball, Timothy?" If Ra's recalled correctly, when the Drakes parished, Timothy had been taken in with the Wayne's, another good, wealthy family. He knew that the Wayne family had received an invitation. There was no reason that the boy wouldn't be able to go.

But the way he looked when Ra's asked, it made seem as though he wouldn't be. That couldn't be allowed. He wanted the little bird there to chirp for him at the ball. He hardly knew the boy and he already seemed to have made his choice before the ball. The Drakes always made such promising companions for an ageless King.

"Um, yes, your majesty, I will. I promise, I will." Tim felt a spark of hope when he made that promise. He would finish those chores in record time and he would fashion a proper suit and he would go to that ball. Speaking with the King was such a grand thing and he'd done it before his horrible step brothers. Only he couldn't tell them, not yet. "But first, your majesty, I need to purchase some shoes for my step brother. The family dog ate his."

Tim nearly ran home after the shoes had been bought. He had spent too much time talking with the King and needed to hurry home. He need to hurry and finish his chores, or he would break his promise. Tim nearly ran home with a grin on his mouth. He manged to school his grin into a smile though he was so happy it was difficult to maintain. Even giving Jason his new shoes and dealing with his temper for being late, couldn't wipe the smile off his face or the far out look in his eyes.

"What's wrong with him?" Jason asked, crossing his arms and sneering at Tim some more as he walked away.

"Oh, forget him. He's weird anyway." Richard turned his nose up and turned back to admiring himself in the mirror. He really did look fabulous in blue. Blue that matched his eyes.

Bruce followed Tim down to kitchens. He didn't like the look in Tim's eyes, nor the smile on his. It was a smile that said he had fallen love. But who did you fall in love with at a shoe shop? "Timothy... Make us some tea."

Tim nodded and set the kettle of water on the stove top to boil. He set out two tea cups as Bruce sat down at the table and put out sugar and cream. He set a tea bag in each cup then stood by the stove to wait for the water to boil. Bruce never, ever did this.

"Did you make a friend at the cobbler's?" Bruce's question was innocent enough but it took the smile right off of Tim's lips.

Instead of really answering, he just nodded his head. Sure, he could probably consider the King his friend, but maybe not. He was surely kind enough. He turned away from Bruce to stop the kettle from screaming. While his back was turned, Bruce slipped a while powder in Tim's white tea cup, impossible to see unless you already knew it was there.

Tim poured the hot water in the tea cups, spooned sugar and poured cream into his own cup, letting his step father take care of his own. He always forgot how the man liked it. He sipped his tea and watched Bruce sip his. This was almost scarier than when the man yelled at him for breaking a vase.

"How nice of you to make a friend. Who are they, then?" Bruce stirred more cream in his tea an took another sip.

Tim took a deep sip to delay his answer and tried to blink away a sudden bout of sleepiness. He covered a yawn behind his hand so as not to appear rude to his step father. "Just a nice man. He helped me find the right shoes for Jason... Tha's all."

Bruce added some more sugar then some more cream to his tea. He took another sip and hummed at the better taste he created. "How nice. Perhaps you should get ready for the ball, Timothy."

Tim smiled and blinked sleepily. It was so nice that Bruce would allow him to just go to the ball. That was also a little scary but now Tim was getting a bit too tired to want to think about. "You don' mind if I shut my eyes d'you?" Tim had barely finished his sentence before his eyes slipped shut and he slumped in his chair, dropping his tea cup on the floor.

Bruce smiled and gently put down his tea cup on the table. "No, Timothy, I don't think you will be going to the ball after all..."


End file.
